


Like Judas Thereupon Kissed

by SwapAUAnon



Series: A Girl and Her Bike [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Gen, Murder Mystery, Pre-Cybertronian Civil War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwapAUAnon/pseuds/SwapAUAnon
Summary: The war between the Autobots and Decepticons is one of the longest, bloodiest conflicts in the galaxy's history. So why is it that it started just after the two sides united against a common foe?
Series: A Girl and Her Bike [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1609120
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue: Dion

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get any work done on Golden-Eyed Eclipse, but then typed this up easily. Why is my brain like this?

A blue, silver, and yellow cargo truck sped down the highway on the outer edge of Iacon, coming to a stop by an Energon depot.

"I got your Energon cubes, fresh from the refinery!" the truck announced as his trailer opened up, "Be careful, these are highly volatile. The slightest spark, and we'll get a fireworks display that'll rival Matrix Day."

"I'll keep that in mind," the green foreman remarked, "Alright everyone, shipment's here! Remember, this Energon's not for personal consumption! You'll overload your circuits if you try!" Several more green vehicles drove out, some marked with almost passive, red faces, while others were marked with glaring, angular, purple faces.

"... You hire Ascenticons?" the truck remarked, shifting into robot mode as soon as the last Energon Cube was unloaded.

"Heh, I've got nothing to fear from them!" the foreman assured, "I pay my workers well and lead by example. Even gave Scavenger a Cycle off when his voice box started itching. Besides, outside of a few extremists, they're good bots!"

"If you say so…" the former truck remarked, his blue optics eyeing some of the green and purple Ascenticons uneasily.

"I'm just surprised you don't have an issue with the Autobots," the foreman replied, "Their agendas are pretty similar to the Ascenticons."

"Yes, but they don't go around slaughtering anyone who questions their boss," the former truck replied.

"Dion… You and I both know the Wreckers are outliers," the foreman replied sternly, "I might not go out and march with either the 'bots or 'cons, but I won't tolerate anyone smack-talking my workers."

"I'll believe that the Wreckers are renegades when Megatron stops letting them wear his symbol," Dion replied, "Now then, I just transported highly explosive Energon across town during rush hour…" The foreman groaned.

"Alright, this should cover the Energon," he forked over two fistfuls of Shanix as he and Dion sat in his office, "This should cover the hazard pay." The foreman poured two more fistfuls into Dion's hands. "And here's the tip." He dropped a few more. "Will that cover it?"

"Plenty," Dion remarked as he stored the hexagonal coins, "Just, next time you and your partner need something delivered, could you maybe have me carry something a little less… Highly explosive?"

The foreman laughed.

"Sorry partner, but when you work in construction and demolition, you work with a LOT of dangerous equipment!" he explained, "Still, I hope you have a safe trip home!" Dion wordlessly walked out of the office, folded back into truck mode, and drove back into town.

* * *

The sun disappeared over the horizon as Dion pulled into his lot, unfolded into robot mode, and walked up to the front door of his apartment. The tip of his key emerged from his pointer finger, and the delivery bot needed only to turn the Key to get his front door to slide open. As soon as he was inside, the press of a button is all that was needed to close the door behind him. He walked over to his Energon dispenser, filled up a cylinder, and sipped the glowing liquid, feeling his strength return to him.

"I wonder if there's anything good on…" he mused to himself as he walked over to his living room.

"There never is," an unfamiliar voice growled. Dion froze, and turned to the source of the voice as he heard the sound of metal shifting into place. Then he looked up, and up, until he saw two piercing green optics looking back down at him, and an almost predatory grin illuminated by their glow.

"P-please don't hurt me," Dion remarked as the figure's right hand shifted into a canon, "I-I have shanix!"

"Do you now?" the figure remarked, his right hand returning to normal as he held it out in front of Dion, "Fork 'em over! Unless you'd like to see why my left hook is famous." The stranger held up his left hand, or rather, the rusted, hook-like blade where his left hand should have been, and held it up to Dion's face. "Either way, I get paid." Dion emptied his storage compartments, handing over every last shannix he could get his hands on.

"Well, you certainly weren't lying," the stranger chuckled as he stored the shanix away, "Unfortunately…" His rusted hook retracted into his left arm, and a metal ball with Energon spikes was deployed to take its place. "I still have a job to do."

"... No…" the stranger lifted his weapon over his head with a grin, "Please…"

_CLANG!_

Dion cried out in pain twice. Once when the weapon hit his side, and once more when the stranger tore it out, along with several circuits.

_CLANG!_

_CLANG!_

_CLANG!_

_CLANG!_

_CLANG!_

_CLANG!_

By the time the stranger was done, Dion's still living body was in pieces on the floor, circuits hanging out of several tears in his dented body as pink liquid poured out of his wounds, his optics flickering as he groaned in pain. The stranger smirked as he shifted his left hand back into a hook.

"And now for the final touch," his right hand shifted into a fusion cannon, "Goodbye."

"... N… N-n-"

_**BANG!** _

"Are you sure you don't want me to clean up?" The stranger asked as he walked out the front door.

" _No, but his neighbors will be coming home from the rally soon, so get out of there before they see you."_

"C'mon, I've been doing this for ages," the stranger remarked as he shifted into vehicle mode and drove off, "I'm just wondering why you want me to leave evidence behind."

" _You'll see…"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... So... I was originally going to close the chapter out on one of Dion's neighbors discovering his corpse, but "the stranger" casually walking away felt like a FAR more eerie ending.
> 
> If you couldn't guess, however, this is set BEFORE the Autobot/Decepticon war, but it's gonna happen eventually. You probably guessed that from the title.
> 
> The Wreckers' situation was inspired by Impactor's Decepticon alliegance in the "War for Cybertron Trilogy", and that's about all I can say without spoiling the story.
> 
> If you want to see more Transformers action from me, well, this is a prequel to another one of my stories: "A Girl and Her Bike: Volume 1", and is in fact elaborating on the events that were skipped over in that story's second chapter: "World of Cybertron". Again though, I'm going to try my best to make sure that this story and that one can both stand on their own.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you all next time!


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome to Iacon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp... I got hit with inspiration for this little project again.  
> Hope you all enjoy!

Iacon was a bustling city. Buildings forged the most precious metals towered into the sky, the Capitol Tower being the highest point, built atop the Well of the AllSpark. The buildings around the Capitol Tower made up the Inner City, where politicians and the wealthy lived in elaborate mansions Beastformers and Minicons were not permitted within the Inner City unless they worked for one of the residents. A wall built around the Inner City separated it from the Outer City, where "unskilled laborers" lived. Large parts of Iacon were barred to Beastformers, Minicons, or both, forcing them to live in the slums on the outskirts. However, in one district where no such restrictions existed, there existed an old oil house, where all were welcome, so long as you obeyed the owner's one rule: No fighting.

Now, Maccadam wouldn't fault a bot for defending themself, that would just be cruel. But he wouldn't stand for anyone making a mess of his bar, or making his patrons feel safe. Indeed, it was displayed proudly on a sign outside his shop.

**Maccadam's Old Oil House**

_We serve bots of any size*, form, or function!_

_*Bots who don't fit inside the building may request deliveries until our extension is complete. We sadly do not have the budget for Guardian or Titan-sized servings at this time._

"Is it really 'any size' then?" Deadlock asked as he finished reading the sign.

"He's just trying to say that Minicons are welcome," B-127 replied, "Besides, I don't think a Titan could walk around in Iacon without destroying large sections of the city."

"Why not Guardians then?"

" _I_ look like a Minicon next to one of those guys," Jetfire answered, "And even then, they're so _large_ that producing enough oil for one to even taste is no easy feat."

"But what about-"

"Are you going to keep complaining for someone who probably doesn't care, or are you going to go inside for a drink?" Shadow Striker asked as she walked right passed them and through the front doors.

"I'm waiting for someone!" Deadlock replied.

"I didn't realize Ratchet's grouchy cynicism was contagious," B-127 snarked as he walked after Shadow Striker.

"Indeed," Jetfire observed as he walked over to the larger entrance on the eastern side of the building, "Perhaps they've been spending a bit too much time together."

"Well, _frag you too!_ " Deadlock shouted.

* * *

It was very busy in Maccadam's as the Autobots stopped by for refreshments after the evening's rally. Most of the seats were filled in by Autobots, with a few Ascenticons scattered about the tables, sitting with a few of the Autobots.

At one such table, Orion Pax and Hot Rod sat with a pink and white Autobot and a dark blue Ascenticon with orange optics.

"Wow, you guys are seriously gunning for a seventh Autobot on the High Council?" the Ascenticon asked, "I've gotta say Arcee, I can't imagine even getting one Ascenticon there."

"Maybe if you guys showed up to the polls, had better PR, and let someone other than _Starscream_ run, you would," Arcee replied.

"As it stands, the Functionist and Autobot parties are currently at a standstill," Orion explained, "The Functionists will do whatever Nominus Prime wants them to, so getting a seventh Autobot on the High Council will allow us to limit Nominus Prime's power, and may allow us to topple the Caste System. Or at the very least, remove the barriers they placed to keep the lower castes from voting.."

"Huh… But won't Nominus Prime still be in power?" Thundercracker asked.

"He'll remain an obstacle to progress for the rest of his life," Orion replied, "But once the castes he has long tried to lock out of the polls have the chance to decide their future, we may be able to destroy the Functionists not on the field of battle, but in the very bureaucratic offices that they've so long used against us."

"A lot of them are gonna walk free," Thundrecracker replied.

"But many more of the downtrodden will be uplifted," Orion pointed out, "Protecting and uplifting the vulnerable should be our highest priority."

"And in an armed uprising, we wouldn't stand a chance," Arcee added, "We need to solve this with as little bloodshed as possible, because far more of us will die in open warfare than one of them would."

"You've been pretty quiet Hot Rod," Thundercracker observed, "Is there something on your mind?"

"I'm just… Worried," Hot Rod replied, " _Jhiaxus_ of all bots is running on the Functionist ticket."

"Pfft, I'm not worried about Jhiaxus!" Arcee replied, "He's just some stupid pseudoscientist with no leadership skills to speak of. What kind of idiot would vote for him?"

"A Functionist," Hot Rod replied, "Those creeps are gonna show up at the polls in droves to keep us from breaking the stalemate. Even if it means putting someone as disgusting and bigoted as Jhiaxus in power."

"That's why I'm encouraging every Autobot to vote in the coming election," Orion explained, "We cannot afford to let someone so _cruel_ claim the Council Seat."

"Hey guys!" B-127 cut in, "Jetfire and I are supposed to meet Megatron here, have you seen him?"

"He's at a table with Razorclaw and Shockwave in the back," Thundercracker answered, "You can't miss him!"

"Thanks!" B-127 replied, "Hey Jetfire! Let's go!"

"I'm just saying, Razorclaw," Megatron continued, "Our two groups could do so much good if we united."

"You mean, if my Predacons knelt before you," Razorclaw replied as his pink optics narrowed, "No… Our Eukarian pride will not allow that."

"Think about this logically," Shockwave insisted, "The bots most likely to vote for you are Beastformers, who face additional barriers when voting. Your best bet for reopening the Space Bridge Network and going home would be to endorse our candidate."

"By that logic, your best bet for affecting change would be to withdraw from the race and endorse the Autobot's candidate, instead of dividing the vote," Razorclaw pointed out, "Why, if all of the Autobots vote for Greenlight, and half the Ascenticons do, you'd easily crush the Functionists."

"From that perspective, your decision to run for the Council Seat is… Illogical," Shockwave refuted.

"I vowed to never kneel before a Cybertronian" Razorclaw declared, "What's your excuse?"

"Punishment must be enacted against the guilty," Megatron answered, "That coward Orion, will never take up arms against the Functionists, while Starscream, as two-faced as he is, can and will."

"It is illogical to expect the Autobots to aid in the revolution," Shockwave elaborated.

"And what is so logical about this 'revolution'?" Razorclaw asked.

"It is only logical to want justice for being wronged," Shockwave replied.

"But wanting revenge implies rage," Razorclaw argued, "And rage is anything _but_ logical, yes?"

Shockwave didn't reply, his faceless visage wordlessly facing forwards.

"If that's all, I really must be going," the Predacon leader said.

"We liberated the K-class!" Megatron insisted as he slammed his fist on the table.

"The Autobots liberated the K-class," Razorclaw coldly replied as he walked away, "Oh hello, B-127, I'm afraid that I don't have time to chat."

"Oh don't worry Razorclaw," B-127 replied, "Jetfire and I are here to speak with Megatron."

"Well by all means don't let me hold you up."

"So… Is there any particular reason why we moved out of Kaon?" Jetfire asked, "I'm not complaining, mind you, I never dreamed that I'd get to live here in Iacon, but it just feels weird to leave our base of operations behind."

"Unfortunately, we are not moving here, quite yet," Megatron replied, "Shockwave, would you kindly?"

"Soundwave and Starscream have left to negotiate with Straxus to acquire Darkmount as a new headquarters," Shockwave explained as he projected a holographic image of the tower in question, "Given that Straxus no longer holds the resources required for its upkeep, we are hoping he'll see logic and relinquish the tower."

"So, wait, you moved us to Iacon, so we could later move to Polyhex?" B-127 asked.

"We need to be here to help Starscream with his campaign," Megatron explained, "If Nominus is to face justice for his crimes, we need to replace as many Functionists with Ascenticons as possible."

"Yeah… And how do we know that Starscream's actually gonna do what he's told once he's got his Council Seat?" B-127 asked, "His connections are useful, but he's not shown that much personal loyalty to the cause."

"Because, this is one of the few situations where his cowardice will work to our advantage," Megatron replied, "As the first Ascenticon on the council, he'll know that he needs to stick to the Ascenticon agenda to be reelected the next time his seat is up for election. Should he break his promises, he won't get reelected."

"If he fails to keep his promises, it could lead to the masses losing faith in the Ascenticons," Jetfire pointed out.

"And Starscream is well aware of the consequences of that," Shockwave remarked as he patted his right arm.

"So uh, where do I factor into this?" B-127 asked.

"Starscream is going to need a bodyguard while he's campaigning," Megatron explained, "Jetfire will be the visible bulk, the distraction, while _you_ will be the unassuming follower."

"I see…" B-127 replied.

"Of course, I'll have other Ascenticons alter into and out of the role, especially once the election day rolls around," Megatron continued, "I'll be busy in Polyhex, however. I have some renovations to make…"

"Ratchet! Drift! So good to see you two!" the barkeep greeted as the Autobot Medic and Ascenticon approached the bar.

"Maccadam, this is Deadlock," Ratchet replied as he and the Ascenticon took their seats, "I think you have him confused with someone else."

"Oh right, I'll need to remember that when Bumblebee places his order," Maccadam replied.

"Who the Pit is Bumblebee?" Deadlock asked.

"It'll all make sense by the time you learn who the Divided One is," Maccadam answered.

"Is… that a cult thing?" Deadlock asked, "Because I've already devoted myself to the Guiding Hand."

"No, he's just eccentric," Rachet replied, "I'll have my usual."

"I'll have your best Accelerant Energon with a drop of unleaded oil," Deadlock placed his order.

"I could use some Thermal Energon and a pint of coolant," Arcee said as she walked up to the bar, "Gotta set a good example for Gauge."

Ratchet and Deadlock turned to face her.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna intrude on your date," Arcee assured as Maccadam handed over their respective orders, "I'm just refueling before I head home."

"This isn't a date!" Deadlock insisted

"Is that why you were waiting outside for Ratchet to show up?" Arcee asked as she took her Energon and coolant and walked away. Deadlock took a sip of his red Energon and sighed.

"This just doesn't compare to what they have on Velocitron," he remarked, "Blurr had an amazing recipe for this kinda thing."

"I still don't understand what possessed you to come to this old junkheap of a planet in the first place," Ratchet remarked as he sipped his oil.

"I was making a pilgrimage," Deadlock replied, "They say that Cybertron is the body of the Maker. I was hoping to obtain a greater spiritual understanding by journeying here. The retreat was only supposed to take half a solar cycle, but then Nominus made his decree…"

"I never got the mystification of this planet," Ratchet remarked, "All it takes is spend a cycle here to see it as the godless wasteland it is. If Primus truly does exist, he certainly isn't here."

"According to legend, he slumbers in the planet's core, only awakening when Cybertron needs to reboot," Deadlock replied.

"How apocalyptic," Ratchet muttered, as he sipped his oil.

"I was talking about the planet's systems, not the people living on it," Dreadlock replied.

"Hrmph," Ratchet put down his drink.

"So why did you leave with Orion, anyway?" Deadlock asked.

"Pragmatism," Ratchet answered, "I want equality, not supremacy."

"We're not looking to become tyrants," Deadlock replied.

"You do realize that the only reason Starscream joined us is because he wasn't getting anywhere with the Functionist ticket, right?" Ratchet asked.

"Greenlight was a Functionist herself once, wasn't she?" Deadlock asked.

"As a protoform, yes, but then she updated herself and realized just how flawed that system is," Ratchet remarked, "Starscream only wants power, and trust me, he will gladly sell you out for votes."

"I didn't come here to discuss politics," Deadlock commented.

"Then why did you ask to meet me here?"

"I figured we could catch up, it's been ages since we've been able to meet face-to-face," Deadlock answered.

"Unfortunately, politics are all I've been up to since we last met," Ratchet replied, "Actually, I _did_ get an assistant."

"Hmm?"

"His name's Fixit," Ratchet explained, "He's got a few glitches, but as a Minicon he can perform more delicate procedures than I could ever hope to perform on my own."

"Huh… Never heard of Minicons operating on larger bots before," Deadlock remarked.

"And it's a damn shame, he's literally a life-saver," Ratchet replied.

"Sorry to interrupt your date-" Maccadam cut in.

"It's not a date!" Deadlock and Ratchet protested.

"- but I think you need to see this…" Maccadam continued as he switched every screen to a news channel.

" _Breaking news! Following the Autobot rally just outside the gates of Iacon's Inner City, courier bot Dion was found dead in his apartment!"_ the newscaster announced, shock clear on her face, " _The victim's neighbors discovered his remains after noticing his front door was wide open! Security Director Ultra Magnus will now make a statement."_

The scene shifted from the newscaster to show Nominus Prime's towering security officer.

" _It is unlikely that the timing of this murder was a coincidence,"_ the bulky Transformer stated, " _Whoever the murderer was, they had to have known Dion's schedule, and that there would be a very thin window of opportunity to carry out the crime before his neighbors would come home. As such, for the safety of our citizens, Nominus Prime has put a curfew in place. All who wish to stay out passed this curfew will have to clear it with CyberSec first, and anyone caught breaking the curfew without prior authorization will face severe criminal charges."_

The camera returned to the newscaster.

" _Nominus Prime has sent messages out to select citizens whom the curfew does not apply to for practical reasons,"_ she continued, " _Seeing how Dion had very vocally criticized the Ascenticon movement prior to his murder, Councilor Heretech has called for higher legal penalties against the Ascenticons. This has been Andromeda, signing off."_

Communicators throughout the oil house buzzed.

"Sounds like it's closing time," Maccadam remarked sadly.

* * *

Straxus grumbled as he pressed the button on his personal elevator in Darkmount

"If that idiot, Megatron thinks I'll sell my prized tower, he has another thing coming!" the former gladiator grumbled as he stepped into the elevator, "Why, I spent good shanix on this tower! So what if I only got those shanix because of Starscream? I don't owe him anything!" The elevator doors closed as Straxus pushed the button for the 48th floor. "Honestly, frag those damned Ascenticons!" The elevator went past the 48th floor, and up to the 49th. "The pit?" Straxus muttered. The elevator kept going up, past the 50th and eventually 60th floors, before finally coming to a stop at roof access. But the elevator doors didn't open. Rather, Straxus felt his spark drop as he hear the one sound you never want to hear when there are over 60 floors between you and the foundations of your building.

_Sproing!_

The teather snapped, and Straxus slammed against the ceiling of his elevator as it plummeted towards Darkmount's foundations at terminal velocity, his Projected Spark Field flaring as he shielded himself from the g-forces. The sound of metal screeching against metal assaulted Straxus' auditory sensors until it was drowned out by a single, deafening sound.

_**CRASH!** _

Damus turned to face the sound with the workers who were all getting ready to head home for the day and the security team just now arriving to handle the night shift. But now, all stood frozen as their boss, Straxus, pried the elevator doors open with his weapon, and crawled out into the foyer, his Projected Spark Field giving out as he forced himself to his feet, pink liquid pouring from his wounds. Damus scanned the former gladiator, and pin-pointed the location of his t-cog.

"No Master! Don't transform!" he shouted as he activated his Distinction: Glitch.

"What are yo _ **AUGHK!**_ " Straxus cried out as his conversion system activated against his will, his short-circuiting t-cog causing him to shift partway into tank-mode, then back into robot mode, then back into tank mode again, constantly shifting back and forth without finishing either transformation completely. Everyone was paralyzed with shock as Straxus cried out in agony, his body tearing itself apart as his conversion system threw off bits and pieces of his chassis. The screaming was cut mercifully short when Straxus was decapitated by his kibble bending in a way it wasn't supposed to, his optics flickering out seconds later as his body continued to spasm and shift. Finally, Straxus' t-cog burnt itself out and the scrapheap that used to be Straxus fell motionless in a puddle of pink liquid and leaking Energon. Damus mentally patted himself on the back as one of the workers broke out of their shock long enough to contact emergency services. Of course, it was too late for Straxus, and whoever inherited the tower would be eager to sell off the deathtrap now that they had seen how horribly "neglected" its systems were. He spared a glance out the window, spotting a familiar cyber-conder perched on a nearby lightpost, seconds before it took to the sky and flew away.

* * *

"Laserbeak, return," Soundwave commented as the cyber condor shifted into data-cartridge mode and slotted into the storage compartment in his chest.

"And you're certain that it won't be traced back to us?" Starscream asked. He and Soundwave were standing miles away from the scene of the crime.

"CyberSec won't even realize that this was anything but a horrible accident," Soundwave insisted, "They will simply think that Straxus tried to transform into vehicle mode to get help faster, only to learn too late that his t-cog was damaged in the crash."

"Good, because I won't have this ruining my campaign," Starscream replied before shifting into quadjet mode and flying away.

"The outcome of the election is irrelevant," Soundwave remarked as he loaded up the schematics he had downloaded, "Darkmount is all that matters."

Sirens blared in the distance as the Ascenticon Communications Officer stared past Darkmount, to the far taller Capitol Tower in the neighboring city of Iacon.

" _Soon…_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly just some world-building here, but I got the inspiration, and figured I'd show it here.
> 
> And before you ask, yes, much of this chapter was spawned from how annoyed I've been at people announcing that they plan to skip this year's election. No, none of these characters are meant to be direct comparisons to any of the Presidential Candidates, mostly because I came up with this election subplot BEFORE election season rolled around. Yes, that includes Greenlight, Jhiaxus, and Starscream running for a council seat, although I will say that Razorclaw was a recent inclusion.
> 
> If your curious about what Projected Spark Fields and Distinctions are: They're basically just Aura and Semblance from RWBY.
> 
> ... Hey, this IS a prequel to a RWBY crossover, even if I don't feature any of the RWBY characters in here, I do have to maintain some form of continuity here.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you all next time.


	3. Chapter 2: The Status Quo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not want to be written! But it's nice to finally solidify this universe's version of the Thirteen.
> 
> TW: One of the Functionists is a mysogynist and transphobe. If that squicks you out, just skip over Jhiaxus' scene.

A blue and red truck drove down the evening roads of Iacon, driving past various Iaconians as they hurried to reach their homes before curfew, a dozen or so Mini-Cons piling into a single house. The vehicle didn't pay them any mind, as he made a turn towards the crime scene. Cybertron Security Officers stood outside the door.

"Ultra Magnus, sir!" they greeted their commander with a salute.

"At ease," the truck said as he unfolded into a large, bipedal robot, "What can you tell me about the body?"

What was left of Dion lay in a puddle of a pink liquid, smoke rising from a few of the still sparking circuits that hung loose from the various openings in the dented chassis. Dion's fingers still twitched on his left hand, even though that arm had broken at the elbow. His right knee was bending in the wrong direction, and his limbs were connected by only a few circuits. Dion's optics were connected by frayed circuits to his warped, half-molten processor, which in turn rested in the middle of a halo made of the shrapnel that used to be his head, the cables that connected his processor to his neural network hanging out of what was left of his neck.

"He's barely recognizable," Barricade commented.

"Just from the initial scan, I can tell that whoever did this specifically wanted him to suffer before finally putting him out of his misery," Stardrive added, "Do you think the wreckers did this?"

"No, none of them use any kind of spiked bludgeon," Barricade remarked.

"Huh?"

"Look at the tears in his chassis," Barricade elaborated, "Those are puncture wounds, and seeing how they're coating those huge dents, it's pretty damn clear that those spikes were attached to a blunt object You'd see stuff like this all the time in Kaon."

"Dear Primus…" Stardrive commented, "And I thought the Core Override Programs were bad."

"That's what you get for showing empathy in this line of work," Barricade replied, "Don't complain too loudly though, the Council's still looking for an excuse to detonate your processor."

"Please don't remind me," Stardrive requested, "Waking up in the middle of the procedure was bad enough…"

"Wonder who'd be twisted enough to do this?" Barricade remarked.

"Whoever our superiors want to lock up," Stardrive replied dryly. Barricade turned to glare at her. "Oh please, when was the last time we arrested someone who actually broke the law?"

"See, talking like that is why you have a bomb in your head," Barricade replied, "I'm gonna pass our findings on to our friends outside. Ultra Magnus is a bit too big to fit in here." Stardrive stared at Dion's corpse as her partner walked outside.

"Who did this to you?" she asked.

* * *

Nominus Prime reclined in his office at the top of Iacon's Capital Tower, looking out his window to view the skyline, Darkmount standing out from the rest of Polyhex in the distance.

" _Sir, Jhiaxus is here to see you."_

"Let him in," Nominus ordered. The door to his office slid open, and a large, bulky seeker stepped in. Five, blade-like fingers extended from each of Jhiaxus' skeletal hands, his body supported by digitigrade legs that ended in avian feet. His optics emitted an eerie, yellow glow, and his lower face was covered with a nozzle.

"My liege, the operation was a success," Jhiaxus proclaimed in his scratchy voice, "Soon, we will no longer have to worry about those pesky Decepticons."

"It's the Autobots I'm worried about," Nominus Prime replied, not even turning to face Jhiaxus, "There's no chance of Starscream or Razorclaw winning the election, but Greenlight could completely ruin our plans if she takes that seat."

"Oh don't worry, she won't be an issue for much longer," Jhiaxus remarked, "And after the election, I look forward to having the chance of cutting away the defective part of her precious Arcee's processor, and reprogramming that rowdy protoform the two of them made."

"Just be careful not to let that slip," Nominus remarked, "Unless you can use it to goad Greenlight into attacking you, that _will_ ruin her campaign."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jhiaxus commented, "Still, she has no hope of winning, a race that reproduces asexually has no use for females."

"I'd argue not to say that in the debate, but considering who we've been able to win over, I don't think we'll have to worry about a thing," Nominus remarked, "Just… Remember, we need to turn the _Autobots_ against Greenlight if we're to take back the High Council. If she gets that Council Seat, all is lost."

"Don't worry, I have a plan," Jhiaxus promised, "After all, there's more than one way to ensure that bots don't vote."

* * *

The world revolved, campaign ads ran, and the bodies began to pile up.

"All these measures, and yet all CyberSec has accomplished is trampling Min-Cons underfoot," Megatron growled as he and Optimus sat at a table in a deserted lot somewhere in the slums. Various Autobots and Ascenticons gathered around the lot, a green Autobot

"Indeed, it would not surprise me if a Functionist was behind the murders in hopes of getting tighter security," Orion Pax commented, "Hopefully, we'll be able to take advantage of this increased security to clean up the corruption in CyberSec after the election."

"Considering how corrupt the Functionist laws are, you'd have to fire most of the officers," Megatron remarked.

"I'm gonna have to agree with Megatron on this one, Orion," a primarily white Autobot with some black stripes said as he approached the duo.

"And why is that, Prowl?" Orion asked.

"At it's best, law enforcement can only be as noble as the laws they uphold," Prowl replied, "It's why I resigned from CyberSec, I wanted to fix a broken system, but I couldn't do that as a cog in the machine."

"So, why are you an Autobot?" Megatron asked, "You sound like you'd fit in far better among my Ascenticons."

"Because your way _will_ lead to war," Prowl answered.

"Zeta Prime had to lead a war against the Quintessons to win us what little freedom we have," Megatron replied.

"Any avenues for peaceful rebellion were closed to our ancestors," Prowl replied, "Just _hearing_ some of Kup's old stories makes my finish peel."

"Sometimes, war is necessary," Megatron stated as he walked over to Starscream and Jetfire.

"Make sure you get my good side, Refraktor!" Starscream ordered as the automated camera B-127 held flashed.

" _0100011001110010011000010110011100100000011110010110111101110101!_ " the camera beeped.

"Starscream!" Megatron shouted, "It's time to head back to Darkmount for renovations!"

"Oh of course," Starscream growled, before turning to face B-127 and Refraktor, "And the pictures you took?" Refraktor separated into three Mini-Cons. The middle one was black with a green chest plate and a purple head, his only facial feature being a yellow visor. On his right stood a blue Mini-Con with red optics, and on his right a red Mini-Con with blue optics.

"We'll send the most flattering ones to you in an email," the center one stated.

"When you lose the election, I'll send you a slideshow of your worst pictures," the red one promised.

"Shut up Spectro!" the other two snapped.

"You two are no fun!" Spectro growled as he crossed his arms.

"If you don't control yourself, Viewfinder and I have to pick up the slack," the blue one remarked.

"Seriously Spyglass?"

"Is that all?" Megatron asked.

"We'll get in touch with you later," Viewfinder replied.

"Very well," Megatron replied, "Jetfire! It's time to go!"

"Of course sir," Jetfire folded into vehicle mode, opening his boarding ramp, "All aboard!" B-127 shifted into motorcycle mode to drive up the ramp, Megatron following close behind.

"Don't worry Megatron, I'll be sure to mention you during my acceptance speech," Starscream promised.

Megatron simply rolled his optics as he boarded Jetfire's cargo plane mode, the ramp closing behind him.

"I wouldn't want to keep him waiting," Jetfire stated as he activated his thrusters, taking to the skies.

"Rgh…" Starscream folded into jet mode and flew after Jetfire.

"So Sparkplug, if I win the election, what could I do to make lives easier for Mini-Cons?" Greenlight asked the small, yellow robot.

"One thing you could do is give legal consequences to bigger bots for stepping on us," Sparkplug answered, "We end up trampled and crushed to death pretty damn often, and more often than not the perpetrator doesn't even get a slap on the wrist."

"I… Wasn't aware that was a problem…" Greenlight admitted.

"They just have to claim that they didn't even see us, and they don't even face any consequences," Sparkplug replied, "If you can crack down on that, you'll have my vote."

"I'll keep that in mind," the green and white Autobot replied, "Coexistence is essential for our races to prosper, and I think it's up to my kind to mend those bridges my ancestors broke."

"You seem pretty optimistic about that being a possibility," Sparkplug commented. Greenlight wordlessly motioned to one of the tables on the lot, where two protoforms played a board game, one was primarily red, and the other primarily blue. But that was not the biggest difference between the two, as the red one was a Mini-Con, while the blue one was a standard-sized Transformer.

"Okay Wheelie, your turn!" the blue protoform said, "Enjoy it while it lasts, because next turn, victory is mine!"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," Wheelie replied as he placed down a token, "You see, this let's me roll two dice instead of one."

" _What!_ "

"And… Since my piece's battering ram hasn't been discarded yet, if I pass you, you'll lose your turn!" Wheelie continued as he folded his piece into vehicle mode.

"W-Wait… You still need to roll a ten!" the larger protoform replied as Wheelie rolled a ten, "..."

" _Yes!_ " Wheelie charged his piece forward, knocking the other Protoform's over, and stopping six spaces away from the goal, "Oh how the tables have turned, Gauge!"

"... I hate this game of emotions we play…" Gauge groaned as she sank into her seat.

"Gauge! It's time to pack up, we've gotta go!" Arcee called.

"Okay..." Gauge groaned as she started picking up the pieces, "Sorry Wheelie, see you again!"

"I can see why you'd be so optimistic," Sparkplug commented as Gauge bid Wheelie farewell and tagged along with Arcee, "I can even understand why some Mini-Cons would vote for you."

"I'm just glad to be able to help any way that I can," Greenlight replied.

"Admittedly, however, most Mini-Cons will be sitting out the election," Sparkplug continued, "I am one of them."

" _What?!_ "

"None of the candidates are Mini-Cons, so why should I bother?" Sparkplug asked as Acree led Gauge over to the two of them..

"Because you can vote for the candidate the most sympathetic to your plight," Orion suggested s he walked over to the two of them.

"Hmmph, if it's not a Mini-Con, there's no point," Sparkplug insisted, before folding into vehicle mode and driving away.

"Don't worry dear, there's still the debate," Arcee encouraged.

"I'm just… Worried," Greenlight replied, "We might outnumber the Functionists, but if nobody shows up to the polls."

"I think Sparkplug's just tired," Prowl commented, "He's been around since the Quintesson War. I've hung around enough Quintesson War veterans to know how cynical they can be."

"It still doesn't make sense," Gauge remarked, "Aren't we on the same side? Why does it matter what size Greenlight is?"

"Try studying up on Mini-Con history," Prowl remarked, "Our ancestors have been subjugating their ancestors for most of recorded history, with the Quintessons subjugating them whenever we didn't. A friendly smile isn't going to wipe away eons of oppression."

"Maybe… But we have to start somewhere," Greenlight replied.

"Whatever the case, Sparkplug did provide us with important guidance we'll need to fix up Cybertron from generations of Functionist rule," Orion Pax cut in, "As we had our separate ways tonight, we can pray that Greenlight can win over the Sparks of the Mini-Cons during the debate. There's enough Mini-Cons on Cybertron that they could turn the tide of the election."

"Hopefully," Arcee commented, "Hey, where's Hot Rod?" Orion's optics dimmed slightly.

"... Several of Alpha Trion's systems broke down," he explained, "Hot Rod offered to stay with him until Ratchet and Fixit can provide proper medical assistance."

"Oh…" Arcee replied, "I'm sorry, I…"

"He was already old when he was recruited into the ranks of the Thirteen," Orion interrupted, "I… Always knew that I wouldn't have much time with him, but seeing his body slowly break down…"

Gauge threw her arms around Orion.

"Huh?"

"You looked like you needed a hug," the protoform replied, "I know I would if Greenlight or Arcee were hurt…"

"Thank you, Gauge," Orion replied as he patted the protoform's head.

* * *

Orion Pax drove up to his front door, shifted into robot mode, and opened the sliding door.

"I'm back!" he announced as he crossed the threshold. A blue, six-wheeled mechanimal rolled up, cyan optics on its rounded face looking up at Orion. The Autobot leader smiled and knelt down. "It's good to see you too, Roller," Orion remarked as he petted the domesticated rover.

"Hey Orion!" Hot Rod greeted as hey walked into the apartment's entryway, "Alpha Trion's doing a bit better!"

"I told you, I'm _old_ , not _sick_!" Alpha Trion added, "And would you close the damn door? I'd rather not have any more strays wandering in here! The Ground Crawler infestation was bad enough!"

"Roller didn't seem to mind," Orion remarked as the domesticated rover yipped happily.

"Of course he didn't, _he ate them!_ " Alpha Trion shot back, "Now get your tailpipe in here! I haven't seen you all day!" Orion chuckled, but did as his creator asked and closed the door behind him.

Alpha Trion was an elderly Transformer. He was primarily red, with the rest of his body being blue and white. At least, where the paint wasn't worn out, as his legs and right arm were a gunmetal gray from where the paint had peeled away, and his left optic had long ago burned out. Even his torso and the purple wings sprouting out of his back were worn from the countless eons. His body rested in a wheelchair that was remotely linked to his conversion system to provide mobility in both robot and vehicle mode.

"So, how was Greenlight's meeting with Sparkplug?" Alpha Trion asked.

"Sparkplug… Wished her luck… But still isn't going to vote," Orion replied.

"Seriously?" Hot Rod interjected, "Why not?"

"Because she's not a Mini-Con," Orion replied, "I think it's a matter of pride."

"Same excuse as Razorclaw then," Alpha Trion sighed, "Of course, you know what they say comes before a fall."

"I mean, could you imagine if Micronus Prime and Onyx Prime had been too paranoid to join up with the Thirteen?" Hot Rod asked.

"I'm… Not sure that's the best analogy," Alpha Trion replied, "Given that Prima _did_ go mad with power and attempt to exile the other tribes from Cybertron once Exarchon was defeated and the Prime War over."

"Okay but, _before_ Prima became a paranoid megalomaniac, back when Exarchon was trying to destroy Cybertron!" Hot Rod clarified, "It took all thirteen Titans working together to defeat Exarchon!"

"True… True…" Alpha Trion admitted, "It's… Been so long since we were all stood shoulder-to-shoulder." He sighed. "I'll probably never know if Prima was being honest about the Colony Worlds being a gift, or if he became paranoid after the Liege Maximo, Onyx, Logos, Quintus, and the Fallen betrayed us."

"Yeah… Whatever happened to the thirteen anyway?" Hot Rod asked, "I mean, I know what happened to Solus, hard not to when one of your builders is from Caminus, and you're still standing, but…"

"Well, most of us just retired, Vector Prime became a teacher, Micronus a doctor, Alchemist mentioned wanting to open a bar last I heard of him, and Nexus Prime's components' terms ended," Alpha Trion explained, "Prima was overthrown and killed by the bot we now know as Septimus Prime, Onyx Prime perished in the colonization of Eukaris, Logos Prime… Kinda just dropped off the face of the universe after his tribe ditched him to finish colonizing Velocitron, Liege Maximo was overthrown and imprisoned by his own tribe when they had enough of his tyranny, and Autonomous Maximus' disappearance is what kickstarted the Prime War."

"Why did he disappear, anyway?" Orion asked, "I designed the Autobot insignia in his likeness, but I never learned what became of him."

"That's because he kind of just… Disappeared," Alpha Trion explained, "He left to colonize Antilla, failed, and tried to return to Cybertron to repair his titan, Metroplex, only for he, his Titan, and his tribe to vanish into the vast expanse of space, never to be seen or heard from again. Liege Maximo accused Prima of foul play, and the rest is history."

"... Huh…" Orion Pax remarked as Roller yipped at him.

"Not the answer you were hoping for?" Alpha Trion asked.

"I just figured you would know more than the archives," Orion replied, "Considering that you knew him…"

"Considering that I helped compile those archives, I don't know what you were expecting," Alpha Trion snrked.

"Hold on, you never explained what happened to Quintus Prime, either," Hot Rod remarked, "All I know about him is that he was the only Quintesson in the Thirteen, and that he sided with Liege Maximo in the Prime War."

"I can tell you what became of him," Orion replied as he picked Roller up and sat him down in his lap, "He survived the Prime War, finished colonizing the world we now know as Quintessa, and put an end to Prime Nova's reign by killing him and conquering Cybertron."

"I'm sure Kup can tell you plenty of stories about _him_ ," Alpha Trion growled, "Prime Nova might've been a self-serving piece of scrap bent on conquering the galaxy, but nothing can compare to the cruelty practiced by that deluded, five-faced _egomaniac!_ " Alpha Trion coughed up some smoke as his ventilation system roared to cool him off. "Fortunately, I'm pretty sure that he perished when Omega Supreme blew up his flagship. No bot could survive that."

* * *

Meanwhile, a dark, corkscrew-shaped ship touched down on the dark side of Cybertron's fourth moon.

"Lord Quintus," one of the pilots announced, "We're ready to begin the attack at your command."

"Excellent," the leaders' golden face remarked, before rotating to the left to make way for a pink face.

"If what our agent said is true, we should have no issue disarming the Transformers and retaking our factories," the pink face said, before rotating to make way for a cyan face.

"Those stupid Functionists have done our job for us, and soon we'll be able to reshape Cybertron in our own image," the cyan face said, before rotating to the left to make way for a purple face.

"We'll eradicate their defenses with extreme prejudice, bring the lot of them to their knees for daring to defy our gods-given right to rule them!" the purple face declared, before rotating to the left to make way for an orange face.

"But first, we'll have to wait for the opportune moment, lest we end up being the ones eradicated," the orange face stated, before rotating to the left to make way for the golden face from before.

"Soon, the homeworld shall be ours once more!" he declared, "Put me in contact with our agent! We must make sure the election ends in our favor!"

* * *

The green-eyed mercenary reclined in the pilot's seat of his ship as he counted his Shanix. Severed heads, laser cores, and t-cogs hung from the walls as he kept his optics on the screen, resting his head on his fist.

"Ugh… I knew coming to this metal ball was a mistake," he growled, "With all this security, I've got no way to get out of town without getting blasted out of the sky!" He sighed. "Maybe I should've taken that job on Nebulos…"

" _Lockdown? Lockdown respond!"_ the client's voice came in through his commlink.

"You don't have to shout," Lockdown replied, "What do you want?"

" _You've probably noticed the increase in security,"_ the client remarked.

"It's kinda hard not to," Lockdown growled.

" _Well, you shouldn't worry, the increased security was part of the plan,"_ the client explained.

"What?!" Lockdown shouted, "And you didn't tell me up front!"

" _The civil unrest was inevitable,"_ the client explained, " _But once the election is over, you'll be set for life!"_

"This had better be worth it," Lockdown warned as he brandished his hook, "I don't take kindly to being cheated!"

" _And I don't take kindly to being threatened!"_ his client warned, " _So, remember that the only reason CyberSec hasn't found you yet is because I still consider you worthwhile!"_ Lockdown growled.

"So, why did you call anyway?" he asked as he got to work polishing his hook.

" _I have two more targets for you,"_ the client explained, " _Then, all you'll have to do is lay low until the election."_

"Oh, and who are they?" Lockdown asked.

" _I'm transmitting their profiles to you,"_ the client announced. Lockdown activated his computer and pulled up both of the targets' profiles.

One of them was a pink Autobot with red optics, named Arcee. A mass-produced model from Tarn, who had had her chassis altered shortly before the split between the Autobots and Ascenticons. Lockdown pulled up Arcee's schematics to compare them to her current model.

 _Outside of making herself sleeker, it doesn't look like she's changed much_ , Lockdown observed.

The other target was a blue Protoform, named Gauge, who had been forged and Sparked in Iacon shortly after the first Autobot was elected to the High Council, one of the first Protoforms to be created using something called "Vector Sigma" to generate the pieces that generally couldn't typically be pieced together from scrap.

"So how exactly am I supposed to do this?"

" _In the near future, there's going to be a debate,"_ the client explained, " _While Greenlight's busy at the debate, you're going to extinguish her Cojunx Endura and that Protoform those two built. And however you do it, I want it to_ _ **hurt!**_ "

"The longer it takes, the more likely it'll be that I'll be caught," Lockdown replied.

" _Fortunately, I have friends in high places, as we both know,"_ the client replied, " _Of course, if you are captured… I have the perfect plan to ensure your survival and escape…"_ Lockdown's attention hung off his client's every word, a smile slowly finding its way onto the hired gun's face.

"So _that's_ why you specifically ordered me to use those two weapons," he observed, "Alright, you keep your end of the deal, and I'll keep your secrets. Now…" he began typing on his computer. "When is this debate, and where does Greenlight live?"

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Things are starting to heat up. Pretty much the main reason I'm introducing all of these different factions is to keep this from being focused entirely on the election. Plus, I got to do some worldbuilding!
> 
> For the record, if you translate the binary into English, you can see what Refraktor said to Starscream! It's not essential to the plot, but I figured using binary would be the easiest way to convey the "beeping language" the Mini-Cons had in Armada. So, no, Refraktor wasn't literally screaming a sequence of zeroes and ones (as hilarious a mental image that is), he was just beeping the same two syllables at him in a specific sequence. That's just how the Mini-Con's language works.
> 
> Additionally, I figured I'd solidify this world's version of the Original Thirteen Primes. It's basically the Aligned Thirteen, but replacing Amalgamous Prime and Optimus Prime with Logos Prime (from a Japan-only Manga) and Autonomous Maximus (from the original Marvel Comics). In the former's case, it's for two reasons: Amalgamous' status as the father of Transformation is kinda redundant when Adaptus exists, and in the latter's case, it's because I just hate the idea of Optimus being one of the original Thirteen Primes. I prefer him having far more humble origins.
> 
> Alpha Trion's wheelchair can transform to tow around his vehicle mode. Why? Because why wouldn't a Cybertronian wheelchair do that?
> 
> As for why Quintus Prime is a Quintesson instead of the creator of the Quintessons? It's because I wanted to do more with the Quintessons.
> 
> Jhiaxus himself is a gaggle of Transformers' references: His design is meant to reflect Bayverse Starscream's (with the "gas mask" nozzle being a reference to what the Seekers looked like in the Bumblebee movie), his sexism is meant to reflect the "Why do the Transformers need females?" mindset that's plagued the franchise for most of its lifespan, and his desire to lobotomize Arcee is a reference to his horribly thought out role in her backstory in the 2005 IDW continuity! So, basically, I specifically designed him to be as creepy and unlikable as possible as possible while also having him embody the lowest points of the Transformers franchise (except for the gas-mask thing, I just thought it looked cool and realized this would be my one chance to use it)! Seriously, if you can think of any other lowpoints of the franchise I could reference in his characterization, please let me know!
> 
> All in all, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


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